Eliana Rampage
troll killer
- Joined
- Jan 13, 2010
- Messages
- 639
- Reaction score
- 0
The traces of hope died in the comfort of my fingers.
The flesh is warm, inviting and safe
In contrast to the deluge of the outside world.
The joy drowns.
It crowds into a metal hall
draped in the shrapnel of used batteries.
Tattered smiles taken from
rusty playgrounds
while worn-out sneakers from those very places
run their final mile.
Who would have thought
that their laughs would run dry?
Trading places with inky tears
that plaster the walls in whiskey
as the drunkards pass by,
ill-fated, oblivious and unaware
of the intoxication that seeps their blood
like the blackest of teas.
Drink it up
And as you gulp your life away
I’ll be drowning in the rapids,
Struggling to keep my petty head
Above your shallow surface.
You stomp my dreams like a burning flat-iron
As you prance through your mania.
This world you’ve presumed your own,
These words you speak and issue
From your embryonic mouths
Destroy me.
If I could just take the damn plunge
Leap across the surface and taste
The pinnacles of love.
My tongue craves
And pines for the embrace
of authenticity.
The tropical and exotic warmth it emits
is alien, foreign and unknown to me.
The hourglass pricks my thumb
And the blood that runs
Sprints through the streets
And parades like a rabid animal,
Like you.
Lick the thumb that bleeds
And become poisoned by its depth.
I am not of you
Or your kind.
While the rest of you, you
And your Kodak-perfect herd,
You form into dust-clusters
At the foot of my bed.
You gather soot, ash
And shit.
It cumulates and I lose
My will to live.
The flesh is warm, inviting and safe
In contrast to the deluge of the outside world.
The joy drowns.
It crowds into a metal hall
draped in the shrapnel of used batteries.
Tattered smiles taken from
rusty playgrounds
while worn-out sneakers from those very places
run their final mile.
Who would have thought
that their laughs would run dry?
Trading places with inky tears
that plaster the walls in whiskey
as the drunkards pass by,
ill-fated, oblivious and unaware
of the intoxication that seeps their blood
like the blackest of teas.
Drink it up
And as you gulp your life away
I’ll be drowning in the rapids,
Struggling to keep my petty head
Above your shallow surface.
You stomp my dreams like a burning flat-iron
As you prance through your mania.
This world you’ve presumed your own,
These words you speak and issue
From your embryonic mouths
Destroy me.
If I could just take the damn plunge
Leap across the surface and taste
The pinnacles of love.
My tongue craves
And pines for the embrace
of authenticity.
The tropical and exotic warmth it emits
is alien, foreign and unknown to me.
The hourglass pricks my thumb
And the blood that runs
Sprints through the streets
And parades like a rabid animal,
Like you.
Lick the thumb that bleeds
And become poisoned by its depth.
I am not of you
Or your kind.
While the rest of you, you
And your Kodak-perfect herd,
You form into dust-clusters
At the foot of my bed.
You gather soot, ash
And shit.
It cumulates and I lose
My will to live.
